𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐀 -
Intricate and witty, her life has twisted upside down after her father's past scarred his family. At the young age of twenty, Violet is informed that eight years ago, she was promised to marry a Mafia Don's son by h...
HEIRLOOM - SLEEPING AT LAST "you are so much more than your father's son."
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_______ TW: MENTIONS OF ABUSE & SH please read at your own risk.
Rays of sun gleamed through the sheer white curtains of my bedroom; their warmth washing away the remnants of sleep as I slowly woke up— though I didn't want to. I had pretty much one of the worst nights of my life, with constant nightmares and the inability to fall back asleep. Throughout different periods of the night, I contemplated waking Dominic up, but I didn't want to be a bother. Besides, when he slept he looked the most at peace as he ever did.
"Good morning," he greeted, his voice still a little raspy from sleep.
"Morning," I smiled sweetly, my eyes still adjusting to the light of my bedroom— and the sight of Dominic laying comfortably in my bed.
"How did you sleep?"
"Really well," I half lied. The moments of my deep sleep, were amazing. The others? Not so much, but I didn't want to nag Dominic about it. He'd probably buy me a whole new bed or something if I told him I didn't sleep good.
"It doesn't look that way," he replied, his tone carrying a hint of remorse. His eyes met mine, acknowledging the sarcastic remark as he sighed.
"That's a nice thing to say to your girlfriend," I scrunched my nose at him with a playful yet reproachful smile, my gaze lingering on him.
The early chapters of our story were ripped with rough edges, particularly made by me. And though I guess I had spent these past few months trying to hate Dominic— or maybe just dislike him— I couldn't, and now, we had ended up here; with complexities that should have forbidden us from ever happening.
Nevertheless, I was happy.
"But I know you didn't get much sleep, I heard you wake up," he remarked.
"I only went to the bathroom for a second."
Dominic gave me an unimpressed look, his eyes narrowing down onto mine. "You were in the shower for twenty minutes at three in the morning," he remarked, apparently having memorized it.
"I just couldn't fall back asleep."
"Bad dream?" He asked, his voice a gentle inquiry laced with concern.
He caught me off guard for a quick second. How the hell did he even guess that? "Yeah," I replied quietly, the memory of the dream lingering in the air like a shadow that refused to dissipate. The images of the reverie were still as vivid in my mind as ever, each detail painted into the canvas of my consciousness.
